


A Series of Small Fires

by QueenZeal



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-22 00:50:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1569887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenZeal/pseuds/QueenZeal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hopelessly projecting Severa/all the girls fics until I get over it basically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Series of Small Fires

“Shut up.” is what Severa finally says to break the five minute long silence of their ragged breathing, which is as unforgivably stupid a thing to do as everything else they’ve been doing for the past hour.

“I didn’t even say anything!” shouts Cynthia, maximum volume, unwilling to let even Severa’s most obvious dishonesty go unchallenged, which is how they ended up like this in the first place, but Severa has her no less firmly pinned to the floor for it. Severa can feel her heart thumping in her ears. She can’t hear herself think over how annoyed she is but while she’s looking at Cynthia she keeps forgetting exactly what it was that was so annoying. She searches Cynthia for an answer. Cynthia is as mad as she can get which is so much cheerier than Severa has ever felt capable of she starts hating her all over again, her stupid big defiant eyes and flushed cheeks and silly grin and all the other lovely shapes in her body and face that Severa should’ve got from her mom and didn’t.

“Fine, you win! But I’m not gonna stop talking just because you’re so mean,” says Cynthia.

Severa flinches. If you are the sort of dumb baby that feels hurt when people say you are mean, why are you so mean to everyone? Severa thinks to herself. Are you perhaps an actual idiot?

“I didn’t say that. Even I’m not that mean, jeez. But you are not allowed to talk about how I look any more,” says Severa. 

“Why not!” she yells, and Severa just sighs now because that’s all they’ve been fighting about and of course it’s useless, she knows that Cynthia is trying to be nice the only way she knows how. Severa knows that. She knows it’s not fair the way she snaps at Cynthia every time she says about how nice her hair looks or how strong her shoulders make her or the shape of her face. But she can’t help how much she hates every little tiny detail of her own body either, how much the exact features Cynthia loves to compliment are exactly the ones Severa hates the most. Can’t you get on my ridiculous self loathing level for like half a second?

Severa feels like a dumb stupid kid getting mad at another dumb stupid kid. This is pointless, she thinks, I’m getting mad for no reason and she’s my friend and I hate being mad and I hate being mean and all the strength goes out of her arms, to which Cynthia is like: chance. And flips stupid Severa on her strong lovely mean jerk back.

“Justice prevails,” Cynthia says, firmly, with a smile, slamming Severa against the floor for emphasis. And she’s just on top of the world, Severa’s hands pinned above her head, arms limp, straining slightly with helplessness.l Always, it’s Severa who can’t go through with it at the last second, and Cynthia’s the one that plows forward with nothing stopping her, but that’s what she gets for being honest. But this win is no fun, because now Severa isn’t even struggling, not even an indignant expression and shameful blush to feel triumphant over. Cynthia’s annoyed for a moment, like, seriously: Severa is such a contrarian she won’t even be contrary when she wants her to be.So Cynthia leans in to look at the eyes intent on avoiding her and presses harder on the arms that aren’t fighting her.

“Maybe first of all you can promise to not be a every time I talk about how much I like you!” Cynthia says. It’s hot, they’re both sweating, and Severa squirms at that, and she’s almost slippery enough to get free, but Cynthia throws all her weight on her, and that ends it. Cynthia locks her legs around Severa just so there is no ambiguity whatsoever who has prevailed. She’s nearly as close as she can get to the parts of Severa she insists stubbornly on liking, the soft curve of her belly and breasts, and enjoys the privilege of having a sweet place to rest so guilelessly she doesn’t notice how much the closeness is making Severa blush and squirm in ways that definitely are not a single for Cynthia to get off of her. Cynthia, though, isn’t ready to feel bad yet. Even when it comes to herself, no one is meaner than Severa. She’s even meaner to herself than she is to Cynthia. Why does she get to do that? Cynthia doesn’t mean it like anyone else does. She means it for real, she means it forever for real. So it’s not fair that Severa looks so sad right now.

“Hey, are you okay? I didn’t hurt you did I?” says Cynthia.

It’s so hard to be honest. But pinned to the floor, helplessly close to her, at the mercy of someone with nothing but love in her eyes and a firm grip around her wrists, being honest feels a little easier. It aches too much to hold it.

“You pity me,” says Severa.

“I don’t understand. I don’t get it,” says Cynthia. “I don’t pity you. I love you.”

 Severa turns her head away, quickly and shakes her head, hiding in her hair since it’s the only place left to.

“Hey! Hey, look. Please” says Cynthia, pushing so close that Severa can’t look away. Cynthia’s looking her in the eye and that is the hardest thing in the world for Severa to do and also the most embarrassing, though she would probably feel a lot more embarrassed if Cynthia was noticing how much she was blushing with Cynthia’s face so close, aware of how their lips are practically the only place where they aren’t touching, and then she’s thinking about them touching.

Severa looks up to Cynthia. She licks her lips. Her throat feels so dry and she can’t remember when she ever felt so thirsty.

“I don’t pity you. That’s a lie. You have to take it back. It’s not true.”

“It is true. You’re pretty and my body is all wrong and messed up and I couldn’t ever hope of being pretty like my mom so it just feels like pity okay. People prettier than me calling me pretty is the worst feeling in the world,” she says, because it’s just too much effort to not be honest anymore. She’s can’t focus because Cynthia is being so annoying and stubborn, she reasons, because Cynthia’s hair is spilling silky on her collarbone, how Cynthia’s legs are wrapped around her hips, how when she speaks their lips nearly touch. It’s obnoxious. Not so arousing she can barely sit still. That would be a ridiculous thought.

“Do you want to kiss me?” asks Cynthia, with genuine curiosity. She wonders if this will solve the problem.

“W-what are you saying? I didn’t say anything like that…that’s be, really weird, if I said that, because you hate me, so it’d be awful of me, so I wouldn’t. ” says Severa.

“You keep licking your lips and you lean in close when I do and I thought that meant you might want to kiss me.” An afterthought. “Also I don’t hate you.”

“A-anyway, I’m sure you’d rather kiss anyone else—“

“No.” Cynthia is firm but does not yell. She presses Severa into the ground. “You don’t get to decide for me what I think or want or how much I want to kiss someone. That’s all for me!”

Totally, completely defeated. Severa has never felt like she’s ever lost so bad but it’s not so terrible. It’s starting to feel comfortable, the ache in her wrists from Cynthia pressing down, nothing left to hide. Cynthia won’t let her lie or hurt herself and knowing that has everything not in this instant fading away. But Severa’s just the sort of person who does not know how to be honest without help.

“What’s that?” asks Cynthia.

“I said, F-fine. If kissing is, if kissing is your decision, then you get to decide.”

Cynthia smiles. She’s never, ever gotten to feel like she won anything from Severa, and now Severa is giving away the honesty she’d have to fight her for hours to get. So just as she’s about to say, yes, of course, always, duh, she changes her mind. Just to see a little more of honesty out of her while she can.

“You know, I don’t think it’s fair that I have to answer first.”

“W-what?” asks Severa.

“You were so mean. I almost cried because I thought you hated me so much. So you need to say it first.”

“Whether or not…I want to kiss you.”

“Yeah!”

“I have to answer?”

“If you don’t answer, you won’t get anything!”

“Even if you might say no?”

“Yep!”

Every time they talk, their lips brush just slightly, so that talking already feels unbearable, each word, and Severa has to force herself to not lean in, give in, give up, but she can’t tell what Cynthia is thinking and she is so so afraid. For once, though, Cynthia is patient. Not kissing Severa is the kind of unbearable she is having fun with.

“ … ss me,” says Severa.

“Hmm?”

“Kiss me.”

“What?”

“Kiss me, okay! Kiss me. Please kiss me. Please. Please.” 

“Haha, I know. I heard you the first time!” Cynthia says. “You’re really lovely when you’re not being such a jerk.”

Slowly, unbearably, Cynthia melts her lips onto Severa’s and Severa whimpers like she’s being tortured, which to be fair, she is, but it feels right, because to be fair, she deserves it right? It’s the only fair way to make it up to Cynthia, isn’t it? And never mind how thirsty she is, Cynthia will still only give her just a trickle, just the softness of her lips brushing hers with the smallest area of contact. Severa chokes back a sob, and then Cynthia feels too bad for her to hold back, and lets her kiss her, lets her use her tongue, lets her bite on her lip like it will keep her there forever. Severa squirms underneath and it’s so pleasant to know she is so exhausted and Cynthia is so strong that she can’t push back or throw her off and she doesn’t have to put on the pretense of resisting anymore.

“Is it okay to kiss here?” Cynthia asks, nuzzling Severa’s neck.

“Yeah, it’s okay,” says Severa, forgetting to stammer.

Cynthia kisses her neck and shoulders, sucks on no particular place like it’s fascinating to her, like it’s all so important each inch needs ten minutes of attention. If she wasn’t this far gone, Severa would just flinch away, not believing it, ‘Why aren’t you disgusted,’ the question Severa can’t help but ask lurking in the back of her head. But she can’t remember any of that now. Free for as long as this lasts.

She lets Cynthia do whatever she wants. Cynthia asks for permission for each and every kiss and touch, so used to saying the wrong thing on accident she wont let herself do anything without Severa’s explicit permission, which has the effect of forcing Severa to express out loud to Cynthia her desire for every humiliating delicious little thing she will be subjected to, can I kiss below your clavicle, can I take off your shirt, can I look at your breasts, can I touch them, can I kiss them, can I bite them? (Sure, if you want to, it better not be just to look, please yes, god yes). Severa requires a certain amount of attention and focus to hate herself and Cynthia will let her have none of it. Cynthia is so fascinated, so curious, so earnest. She treats Severa’s body like a real human body, like a woman’s body, it is a woman’s body, it’s her body, and her nipples sting like wet fire, the attention unbearable and endless and Severa feels like she’s going to come even though she knows she’s miles and miles away from it. 

Severa squirms, desperate for some kind of friction against her clit. She doesn't have the energy to be ashamed of it and she needs relief so bad she can’t stop herself from trying to be discrete enough for Cynthia not to notice. This time, though, Severa asks on her own.

“Can you…down there…” she says, groping for the words. “I can’t…just do something about it, okay!”

Cynthia smiles, and presses her leg against Severa's crotch and it’s painful but just a little closer to relief. Severa's hair is matted and stuck with sweat to her chest and cheeks and Cynthia can't help but feel like she understands her now, like she's found how to say what her voice keeps getting wrong. Cynthia sort of gets that maybe the the way they're gonna be friends and love each other and fuck is both by shutting up a little bit.

“If…” says Severa.

“Yeah? Does it feel good?”

“I-it's pretty good,” Severa says, the last word collapsing into a sigh-moan that's a lot more sincere than any of the words coming out of her mouth.

“Is this better?” says Cynthia, adjusting so she can press her crotch against Severa’s and like, she is going about it in a kind of awkward and naive sort of way but another part of her knows exactly what she's doing right now, exactly how badly Severa is longing to feel that part of her. She understands the person beneath her perfectly.

Severa’s simultaneously a million miles away from coming and right next to it, trapped in limbo between her body and Cynthia's, feels so close that she almost can't believe it, her body shaking. Cynthia says all the things she likes about Severa, because now there’s absolutely nothing she can do to stop her, gasped and swallowed in moans, and Severa cannot make a single protest, can't refute her, and just gives up and comes all over herself and then again, unbearably, painfully hard, like she can't even believe her body is capable of doing this to her again. Cynthia is so loud it hurts Severa’s ears. For once she doesn’t mind.


End file.
